No Excuses
Did you go searching? I suspect "no" or "what do you mean?" might your response.
Last month, for the first time in eight years, I didn't publish a monthly newsletter. Amazingly, the planet still spins, no one suffered, and clients continue to believe I have something of value to offer. Who knew?!
I watched myself throughout this process of NOT sending a newsletter, and found it fascinating. While certainly different from Elisabeth Kubler-Ross' five stages of grief, there truly were stages.
When I first began writing my newsletter eight years ago, it provided a forum for sharing programs I offered - like What's Next?! Workshop. I believed, by sending out the announcements along with some personal (and hopefully helpful) prose, folks would flock to sign up. And, it's true, some brave souls did participate, but no flocking.
Because I "officially" launched my coaching career at the same time as founding The Consciousness Collaborative, I bannered the newsletter with the network title, giving space for other members to chime in and share their words of wisdom and offerings.
Unfortunately, the newsletter became the bane of my existence for those years. Lots of coordinating, editing, and technical work filled my plate every month, in an effort to produce a document that represented us well. Plus, I forced myself to write a column each month, no matter how painful the experience - sometimes resulting in self-inflicted torture.
As years ticked on, my posts morphed, becoming more personally vulnerable and easier to write. Some lucky days, words miraculously flowed, even when no deadline loomed. Then, as the month drew to a close, my files occasionally contained several completed pieces. Yay!
When I shut down The Consciousness Collaborative in 2014, an amazing transformation occurred. The monthly newsletters became so incredibly simple! No last minute columns or photos arrived, and if I chose, I could craft the document and set it to send weeks in advance!
You likely haven't noticed, but no matter where I've been in the world, regardless of what's happening in my life, you have received a message from me in your in-box at the beginning of every month since 2008. And, if I'm specific, it arrived on the 1st, unless that date fell on a holiday or weekend. Can you say committed? Or perhaps more accurately - "should have been committed," because sometimes I generated a whole lot of crazy between me and me to execute my plan!
My husband still laments when it's newsletter time, because he's stuck in the time warp of those many, many months of torture. During which, I'd go down the rabbit hole with a singular goal in mind, no matter what it cost - and there was a price. Space for my family, clients, and social engagements tightened up, while a little bit of my sanity drained away. It may sound silly, but sadly, it's all true.
Last year, when I went to South Africa, I knew I might be without efficient internet access for the October 1st publication. I'd suffered through finishing and publishing newsletters in other countries, where my connection was spotty, so at least I'd learned! Given that this trip was (at that point) the adventure of my lifetime, I cut myself some slack. I didn't write or schedule anything in advance. I simply promised myself, if inspiration struck, and the wi-fi connection cooperated, I'd send a piece for October. And, while I was alone in Cape Town, the work was both easy and essential for me.
Fast forward to August 2016. I knew the end of July would find me in Sedona, having just completed my latest S T R E T C H of rafting and camping through 225 miles of the Grand Canyon. In anticipation, I wrote and emailed myself a "back-up" column in advance, with a hope of having something more relevant to say post-adventure.
In fact, I had/have lots to share, but because of one thing and another (or so I told myself), I never completed the newsletter.
Stage 1: I experienced interest and Curiosity about my lack of motivation and commitment to get the darned thing done. "Well, this is different!"
Stage 2: I moved on to Blame. My body was too tired, my mind unable to wrap itself around something new, and I felt scared as a result of my husband suffering from a concussion caused by an accident the last night in the Grand Canyon - yikes! Except, while all of those experiences might have been real - none of them were to blame.
Stage 3: What Kubler-Ross' calls, Bargaining. My internal dialogue said, "Well, I'll start writing, and it will just go out late. This will be a gentle, healthy solution, and to boot, might serve as a model to anyone paying attention. Perfection only applies to love - all other forms are just a version of control, which is an illusion. So, there we go - I'll surrender control of sending out the newsletter on time, yay me!" Except, I'd just bargained myself into some extra time.
And still, I didn't publish. I'm pretty sure I finished writing a piece. I guess I'll have to check, because I hope to send it to you next month. In the meantime, though, I moved on to my final stage...
Stage 4: Ownership
I chose not to publish a newsletter last month. I need no excuse, no reason, no lesson. Through a series of events, I learned to give myself permission to pay attention to what I needed and wanted. I went through all of these stages to find the power within, to lay claim to what I needed, free of apologies. And as a result, I feel at peace.
The process, itself, became a lesson for me. I remembered - in action - that my power comes from paying attention to my own needs and honoring those by feeling my feelings, saying "yes" or "no" in alignment with my soul, and by releasing the belief that I require a "reason" other than my need. No excuses necessary. My need is enough. I'm enough. Wow!
From this moment of being enough, I invite you to remember that you, too, are enough. You may live without excuses, even when it takes a bumpy path to rediscover that truth.
On September 12th, I leave for a 27 day journey back to The Dell Cheetah Centre in South Africa. I wonder if the universe will give me more practice opportunities to remind me that my needs are enough. Wish me luck!
With much love,
Joanne Lutz